Loving You
by Serafimo's Pretense
Summary: A continuance of the movie. Madame Giry and Meg help Erik get back on his feet. Christine seems unhappy with Raoul and Meg is falling for Erik. Who will love whom? MegErik, but who knows if they will stay together?
1. Chapter 1

Dear Reader,

The story starts when Meg takes Erik's mask (I know, so cliché, but it fits the story). Please read and rate.

Sincerely,

Serafimo's Pretense

I made my way back to the ground floor of the Opera house, clutching the mask under my shirt protectively. I pushed my way through all the debris from the fire and made it out into the fresh air. Everyone was in a confused frenzy. I searched the crowd for a familiar face. I finally saw my mother sitting next to a stunned Christine. I walked quickly to my mother and Christine. Mama looked up and embraced me.

"Oh, Meg, I was so worried," Mama said, giving me a stern look.

I smiled weakly and said, "I know."

I turned to Christine who sat as still as a stone. I had mixed feelings for my best friend. I felt angry that Christine would betray the Phantom like that after all he had done for her. I felt pity for my friend having to deal with all this. I felt jealous of the love both Raoul and the Phantom had for Christine. I also felt relief to see Christine alive. I walked to Christine's side and hugged her tightly. Christine finally responded to something for the first time since emerging from the theatre.

Christine hugged me back fiercely.

"I'm glad it's over. **He** is out of my life once and for all. Now we can all put this horror in the past and Raoul and I can live happily in peace," Christine said into my hair, joyfully.

Bitterness washed over me. I wanted to strangle Christine for saying such a thing without remorse. Mama saw the change in me, but Christine took no notice.

"Oh, I can't wait for the wedding! And we must go shopping for the flowers and your dress! Oh, Meg, you'll look wonderful in lavender! I'm so happy!" Christine practically shouted.

_Obviously, you ungrateful, cold-hearted slut! _I faked a smile and nodded. Raoul appeared out of the crowd and smiled warmly at me.

"Raoul!" Christine squealed, leaping into his waiting arms.

I turned away in disgust. _Dear God, give me strength not to scream._

Raoul reluctantly released Christine and turned to address me.

"Meg, I'm glad you made it out alive. I would have been very sad if you hadn't," he said smiling again.

Raoul took a step forward and gave me a tentative hug. I stood unmoving and confused. Raoul let go of me with an uneasy cough. I raised an eyebrow at him and then glanced at Christine. She gawked dreamily at him. I felt sick to my stomach.

"I'm sorry to leave in such a hurry, but our carriage is waiting," Raoul explained to Mama.

"Of course," she replied.

Raoul and Christine walked away hand in hand.

"Come, Mon Cherie, we too must go," Mama said, steering me to the nearest carriage.

I climbed in and collapsed on the seat; my mother however entered gracefully and gingerly placed herself on the seat opposite of me.

"Now, Meg, a great dancer always moves with grace," Mama teased lightly.

I rolled my eyes and sighed. Mama looked at me with great concern.

"What is it that troubles you, Daughter?" she asked in a distressed tone.

"It's…" I began.

_Should I tell her? Well, what's the harm anyway?_

"It's Monsieur Fantome'. I'm worried for his safety, Mama," I confessed.

"You needn't worry, mon petite ballerine. I will see to it that he is safe," she replied confidently.

"Mama! It's too dangerous!" I protested.

The carriage stopped. We had arrived in front of our flat.

"I'll manage. Now go inside, I'll return within the hour," Mama said.

"But…"

"No. Go inside," she said sternly.

I sighed in frustration and stomped into the house.

It seemed like it had been an eternity since Mama had left. I changed out of my costume and into a comfortable green dress. I paced the kitchen in anticipation of Mama's return.

Finally, I heard the sound of hooves stopping and of footsteps approaching the door. I opened the door with relief, which quickly turned to surprise. Mama was not alone; there beside her stood the infamous Opera Ghost. I regained my composure and helped Mama support Monsieur Fantome' to the nearest chair. He slumped into the chair with a vacant look in his eyes.

"Mama, where was he?" I inquired.

"Later, he needs to be attended to. You should get some rest," she said quietly.

I looked at Mama. She seemed so old then, so weary.

I gave her a hug and said, "No, you've done enough Mama. I can handle it."

She looked at me with a sad, tired smile and went to bed.

I turned back to Monsieur Fantome' who sat paralyzed, eyes still vacant. His breathing was irregular, hair disheveled, unmasked face, soaking wet clothes, and to top it all off he had a cut on his upper right arm. _Oh, boy._ I walked over to him and knelt in front of him. He only seemed slightly aware of my presence.

"Monsieur Fantome'," I said softly.

His eyes moved from the wall to my face.

"You have to get cleaned up," I continued, my voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded numbly and stood up. His looming figure swayed as if he had drunk too much wine. I steadied him and draped his arm over my shoulder. I slowly led him to the washroom. Once inside, I closed the door and analyzed the situation at hand. Without further ado, I began to remove his tattered and wet clothing. He seemed to wake from his dream-like state and grabbed my hands. His piercing eyes stared fiercely into my own.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"It seems obvious to me, monsieur," I replied smartly.

He frowned and said, "I can bathe myself, thank you."

He tried to stand up straight but swayed and had to lean on the sink for support.

Tears welled up in my eyes and I moved my hands back to his shirt.

"Please," I pleaded.

He looked at me with confusion but made no further attempt to stop me. Once he was fully undressed, I allowed myself the pleasure of taking his beauty in. When my eyes returned to his face, he had the biggest smirk on his lips. I blushed a deep crimson and he laughed loudly at my sudden shyness. I smiled broadly and motioned to the filled tub. I helped him slip into the tub and started to lather soap in my hands. I washed his hair thoroughly then grabbed a wash cloth. As soon as I touched his skin, he tensed up.

I whispered in his ear, "Monsieur, you can trust me."

I began to massage his shoulders relieving stress; soon he was putty in my hands.

"You, sir, are clean and cannot sit there forever," I joked lightly.

He chuckled and leaned on me for support while getting out. I dried him off with a soft cotton towel and tenderly wrapped it around his waist. I led him to my room and set him down on the bed.

"I'll be right back. Don't go and escape on me," I said playfully.

"I wouldn't dream of it," he teased back.

I fetched a pair of my father's old sleeping trousers from the trunk and hurried back to my guest. As I entered the room I saw him turning over the mask in his hands. _I left it on my dresser! _The floor squeaked as I approached him, he whirled around with his hand covering the deformed side of his face. _Damn!_ I placed my hand on top of the one covering his face and looked him straight in the eye.

"Monsieur, I have seen your face and it does not scare me nor disgust me," I said.

I gently tugged at his hand, and he reluctantly lowered it. I raised my hand to touch his deformity but stopped short and looked into his eyes, asking for permission. I took his silence as an assent and began tracing the flesh and scars. He shivered under my touch and leaned into my hand. I gathered all my courage and brushed my lips across his cheek. He jumped back, surprised. I lowered my eyes in embarrassment. _Foolish girl! _I kept my eyes trained on the floor, unable to meet his gaze. Before I knew it, he was holding me tightly, burying his face in my hair. I returned his embrace and we just stood there holding each other. _Let me love you..._ He broke away and I turned the other way as he began to change into the sleepwear. He lay down on the bed and closed his eyes. He looked terribly exhausted and not only from these recent events, but exhausted from living the life he's known. I made a move to leave, but he grabbed my wrist.

With one word, he broke my heart, but also made it leap out of joy, "Stay."

I fell asleep with my head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart matching mine.


	2. Chapter 2

Dear Readers,

I do not own Phantom of the Opera. Please read and rate.

Sincerely,

Serafimo's Pretense

Erik POV

I roused with the pleasant feeling of not being alone. I quickly shut my eyes again, believing this was a dream. I felt the form of a woman resting against me, I was holding her. _Christine. _Then, I recalled last night's events and felt guilty. _Meg Giry had shown so much courage and kindness to me and this is how I repay her? By thinking of Christine, my Christine. No she's not mine; never was. _

I was bewildered at the thought of Meg's tenderness. She had looked me without fear or loathing. She wanted to be close to me even after seeing my deformity. _Meg, you are amazing. _I had let Meg see me, all of me, yet I didn't feel ashamed. I had joked with her last night; it felt so natural just to be around her. I barely knew this ballerina. But I didn't want to let her go. I didn't want her to wake up and remember what a monster I am. Meg offered me her kindness willingly. I didn't have to coax her with my voice or pretend to be an angel. Meg knew my transgressions and chose to show me kindness. Alas, we could never be; not after Christine. I will not make Meg be her replacement. Madame Giry had done too much for me.

I felt a presence at the door and turned to see who it was. Madame Giry stood in the doorway. I realized the awkward position I was in with her daughter and moved to get up, but Madame Giry held up her hand in a silent command. Stop. I lay back down with Meg still in my arms. Madame Giry walked quietly to the bed.

"Antoinette, I assure you, your daughter and I have not done anything indecent," I whispered.

"I know," Antoinette responded.

She loving stroked Meg's cheek then looked out the window with a far away look in her eyes.

"What will you do now, Erik?" Antoinette asked.

My eyebrows furrowed. I hadn't really thought about it all that much. I knew I couldn't stay here and I needed money.

"I'm not sure yet. But I won't bother you for much longer, just until I find a job," I said.

Meg shifted and nuzzled her face into my chest. She moved closer to me, her hand over my heart.

Antoinette sighed and said, "Meg has taken an interest in you."

The sad look in her eyes told me what kind of interest it was.

"Meg is so young, she's just confused," I said, trying to comfort Antoinette.

"Meg is only three months younger than Christine," Antoinette whispered, enraged.

I winced. Yes, Christine is young, but I loved her. Tears of guilt and regret filled my eyes. Antoinette's expression softened.

"I do not wish my daughter's heart to be broken," Antoinette said.

I gave her a confused look. How was I to go about that; since Meg's kind heart was already set on a monster.

"Do not lead her on," she said. And with that, Antoinette left.

_It might be too late for that. _I had already led her on by telling her to stay last night. It was foolish, but I didn't want to be alone. I sighed and looked down on Meg's sleeping form. _She's a beautiful girl. Why did she have an interest in me? _My eyes feasted on Meg: blonde hair that fell into soft curls, flawless skin, full lips, and a dancer's body. I felt a man's aching and looked away to make it subside. _Little Meg Giry had grown up; I just didn't notice. _I stared out the window for who-knows-how long, thinking about the women in my life.

Meg POV

I slowly roused from sleep, but I didn't open my eyes, not yet. I wanted to cherish the feeling of the Phantom holding me in his arms. I nuzzled my face into his chest; his sparse chest hair tickled my chin. I placed my hand over his heart, which was beating rather quickly. I heard a woman's voice and recognized it as Mama's.

"…interest in you," I heard her say.

_What is Mama doing? She's telling him!_

"Meg is so young, she's just confused," Monsieur Phantom replied.

_So young! I am not a child! Christine and I are the practically the same age!_

"Meg is only three months younger than Christine," Mama said in an angered tone.

_Exactly!_

Monsieur Phantom shifted uncomfortably at the statement.

_Please, Monsieur Phantom, don't break my heart._

"I do not wish my daughter's heart to be broken," Mama said.

Monsieur Phantom removed his arm from my waist.

_Had he been holding me all night?_ I only vaguely remembered the last moments before I fell asleep.

"Do not lead her on," Maman said and I heard her walk away.

_Why was Mama so worried? Monsieur Phantom turned out not to be the monster everyone said he is, but just a very confused and sad man. Unless…NO! Please, no… He still loves her. After all this, he still loves her. _

I was always a little jealous of my friend. But now, I felt more jealously and resentment for her than I had ever felt for anyone in all my life. _Christine, you are the only thing keeping me from the man I'm in love with._


	3. Chapter 3

Dear Readers,

Thank you to Ida, unconventional girl, mazangerine de chagny, LittleFlowerLei, Phantom's Ange, montaguecat, and Virginie for reviewing. I really appreciate it. I usually send all of my stories through my editor, but since Miss Anderton has been swamped, I decided to put this fan fiction up. My editor is not very happy. I do not own Phantom of the Opera. Please read and rate.

Sincerely,

Serafimo's Pretense

Meg POV

It had been nearly a week since Monsieur Fantome came, yet the papers still had his face, or rather, a very inaccurate and gruesome description of his face on the front page. Though Mama and I weren't poor, we weren't rich enough to stop working all together. I had decided to take an open ballerina spot at the Opera Laurent while Mama became a private ballet instructor for wealthy families who wanted their daughters to become "cultured".

I was helping Mama prepare dinner when she asked me to tell Monsieur Fantome that dinner was ready. I put down the last of the utensils and made my way to the guest room. He had moved there after the first night and hadn't taken off his mask since. He and I had very minimal interaction. Mama and I had been busy getting all of our affairs in order. He had been busy also - spending his time gathering possessions from his prior living arrangement, but mostly he just looked off into space, lost in his own thoughts. _No doubt thinking of **her**_. It made my blood boil.

I reached the guest room and softly rapped my knuckles on the door.

"Monsieur? Monsieur Fantome? Dinner is ready," I called through the wood.

Only silence replied. I waited a few more seconds then turned the door handle. Unlocked. I slowly swung the door open to find him staring out the window at the cloudy day. I tip-toed my way towards him.

Without turning, he said, "What can I do for you, Little Meg?"

I stopped mid-step and replied, "How did you know it was me?"

He turned and smiled gently as he said, "I'd know your footsteps anywhere."

I looked away shyly and fiddled with my dress. _One innocent statement and he has me weak in the knees!_

"Dinner is ready, Monsieur," I said, looking up.

"Erik," he said.

"Pardon?" I asked.

"My name is Erik. I insist that you call me by it. No formalities between us," he said genuinely.

"Then I insist you stop calling me Little Meg. For I am no longer little and haven't been for quite some time," I responded playfully.

"I've noticed," Erik said, almost to himself.

Before I could react he said, "Shall we?" and we exited together.

Erik POV

Dinner was rather quiet; there was only talk of the weather and the Girys' employment futures. We enjoyed a succulent meal of mutton stew and fresh rolls. It seems all I do here is eat and think.

"My dear Antoinette, dinner was delicious. I fear by the time I leave I will be a fat pig," I jested.

"You could use some fat on that skin and bones," Madame Giry shot back.

I laughed heartily and drained my glass of wine. _I could get used to this: three good meals a day, a warm home, good company._ I looked over at Meg. _Very good company… Stop it! She's a child. No! She's a very fine young woman. Yes, a woman, one that is too good for the likes of me._

I stood up and started to clear my plate. Meg placed her hand on mine and stopped me. I looked at our hands, then at her polite eyes.

"I'll take care of it, Erik," Meg said.

I merely nodded in thanks. I slipped my hand out from under hers and hurried out of the room. _God, all she did was say my name and my heart leaps. But the way she said it, so proudly and sensuously. Meg said my name like she'd been waiting to say it all her life._ I groaned and put my forehead against the cool wall. _Enough of this! Just take a deep breath and stop thinking about Meg. Stop thinking about her kind hazel eyes, her contagious smile, her gentle and melodious laughter, her oh-so-soft skin, her inviting lips…_ I groaned again, walked into my room and plopped down on the bed. _Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! She'll never love me. How can she? I am a monster who is doomed for an eternity of sadness._ I sighed heavily and tried to think of something else, anything else. My mind flashed back to Meg's hand on mine. _Oh, forget it! I give up!_ I heard Meg's footsteps approach and stop at my door.

Meg POV

"Erik?" I called out to him.

_I love the way his name rolls off my tongue. It seems so natural, as natural as breathing._

I noticed him lying on the bed, eyes closed with his hands behind his head. I gasped at the sight. _He looks so peaceful, so handsome. _His long lashes fluttered on his cheeks, lips slightly pursed and his body stretched out, relaxed. _Mother is wrong, Erik is perfect the way he is - lean yet muscular. He has a dancer's body and is probably very flexible. His baggy shirt does him no justice, but those tight pants are another story._ I blushed, suddenly embarrassed about my thoughts. He seemed to be sleeping, so I turned to leave.

"Meg?" he called back.

"I'm sorry to bother you," I apologized.

"You're not bothering me at all," he assured me.

Erik stood up and straightened his clothes.

"How can I be of service," he asked cordially.

"I was just wondering if you want me to get you something from the city tomorrow," I said.

Erik looked down and his brows furrowed in thought.

"If it's not too much trouble, could you get me a sketch book and some drawing charcoal?" he inquired.

"It should be no problem. Is that all?" I replied.

"Yes, that is all," he said with a clouded expression.

"Okay," I drew out the word as I turned to go.

"Meg," he beckoned.

I stopped and turned back halfway.

Erik strode up to me and nervously clasped his hands behind him. He looked at me, then at the ground and back to me.

"I apologize. I know it seems that I have been avoiding you, but I haven't. It's just… I've had a lot of things on my mind lately with all that has happened," Erik explained.

I put my hand up to silence him.

"Speak no more. I understand," I cut in.

Erik smiled weakly and grasped my shoulders, turning me fully towards him.

"I can only hope that we can be friends," he said sincerely.

I blinked. _Friends._

"Yes, of course, friends," I replied with false sweetness.

"Good," he said, letting go of my shoulders.

"Bonne nuit," I whispered and left abruptly.

I walked briskly to my room with tears prickling in my eyes. _**Friends.** He wants to be friends. He sees me as no more than a friend, a sister even. _My hopes and dreams were dashed. I entered my room and shut the door. Tears fell silently as I slid down to the floor. My whole body shook with sorrow. _He'll never love me. **Despite** anything I do, I will still be Little Meg. The child in the shadow of his **great** Christine. His angel._ I threw myself on the bed and screamed into the pillow. Never before had I felt such jealousy and loathing for a person. I cried myself into exhaustion that night.


	4. Chapter 4

Dear Readers,

Thank you for reading and reviewing. Sorry it took so long, the only excuse is that that I've been busy with other things.

Sincerely,

Serafimo's Pretense

Meg POV

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon. We were enjoying the peace in the kitchen. Mama sat quietly at the table knitting a scarf. I leaned against the counter, sipping a cup of tea, looking out the window. Erik sat opposite of Mama reading the paper. Much to our relief, the articles about him increasingly got shorter by the day. Soon, the Phantom of the Opera would be out of sight and out of mind. It was about time Erik found some peace in his life.

I tuned around and looked at the scene before me, Mama knitting and Erik reading. Mama had a face of utter concentration. I knew very well that Mama didn't need to concentrate very hard on her knitting since she was rather skillful at it, but rather concentrated on sorting out her thoughts. Erik sat reading the paper, relaxed. Utterly and completely relaxed. _I could get used to this. _I blushed at my thoughts and peered down into my mug. _He wants to be friends Meg! Nothing more. _I frowned sadly at my tea and tried to resist the urge to look at him. But I couldn't help it; Erik was just so…beautiful. Yes, beautiful. Most good-looking men were handsome, but Erik wasn't just handsome, he was beautiful. He had a simple elegance that no other man could possess.

I sneaked a peak at him. Erik had little quirks about him. When reading something he didn't like or agree with, Erik would squint his eyes a bit. And when he found something funny, the left corner of his mouth would turn up. Or, when he found something interesting or a challenge, his left brow would raise and he would frown slightly.

Erik looked up and caught me staring. He gave me a warm smile and I returned the smile. We held each other's gaze. I felt the blush creep up under the intensity of his eyes. He looked at me as if I was the only other person in the world and he knew the depths of my soul. He looked at me as though he… _No I daren't let that cross my mind. What use would it be lying to myself? He could never…_I looked away and sighed in disappointment.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. Time stopped as all of us realized the possibilities behind that single knock. A second knock roused us from our thoughts. Erik put down the paper and calmly exited the room. Mama gave me a worried look.

"Would anyone you know be stopping by today?" Mama asked me although she already knew the answer.

I shook my head in response and put down my tea cup.

At the third knock, Mama called out, "Just a moment!"

I felt cold and very lost. _What if it was the police? They couldn't have found out!_

Mama picked up her walking cane and proceeded to the front door.

I heard a male voice say something, but couldn't quite make out the words. The knots in my stomach tightened.

"Meg, come in here please," Mama ordered.

I gulped hard, trying to swallow my nervousness away. I plastered a sweet smile on my face and walked as calmly as I could manage to the door.

The man at the door was not an officer but a short middle-aged man wearing a stiff suit.

"I assume that you are Mademoiselle Giry," he said in a nasally voice.

"You assumed correctly," I replied politely yet formally.

_You know what they say about when people assume. It makes an ass out of you and me._

"To what do I owe this honor?" I asked, curious.

"It is hardly an honor to have me at your doorstep. I am just here to deliver a message from the fiancé of the Vicomte de Chagny, Mademoiselle Daae," he said with the pride of someone who thinks highly of themselves simply because they **served **a wealthy aristocrat.

I forced a smile and said, "Very well. Please tell me the message."

The man nodded and said in the loud voice of an announcer, "Mademoiselle Daae requests your presence tomorrow at Madame Sophie's dress shop at ten-o-clock sharp."

The way he said the message didn't seem as if Christine requested my presence but insisted upon it. I glanced at Mama who gave me the go-ahead nod.

I smiled on the outside but screamed within.

"How could I refuse such a request? Of course I will meet her tomorrow," I said smiling all the while.

The man nodded and left.

I had almost forgotten about Christine in my little world. Almost. Thoughts of her, mostly ones which were not very nice, crossed my mind whenever I saw that look of melancholy on Erik's face. She haunted him day and night, instead of, as she had feared, him haunting her. It broke my heart. Not only because of the sorrow and heartbreak Erik was feeling, but the knowledge that he was still madly in love with her. _Couldn't he see that she was completely wrong for him! And I…_

The feelings of anger, hatred, resentment, sadness, and loneliness made hot tears roll down my cheeks. I slowly dragged my feet to my room. I stared out my window, sobbing silently. It started to rain lightly outside. _How appropriate!_ My silent sorrow wreaked my body, causing me to shake and tremble. I hugged myself trying to get warm in a world so cold.

A warm hand on my shoulder startled me. I turned to see the face of the man I could never have. He looked at me with a comforting smile. But his smile only brought more tears. A loud sob escaped at the sight of his smile. The smile of a friend, nothing more. He reached out a comforting hand and I flinched away. I didn't want him to touch me. Every time he touched me, he reminded me of my love that would not be returned. I turned away from him. This was too much; I couldn't look at him, not now. He turned me back around to face him and pulled me close to him. His proximity and warmth was a teasing insult. I struggled to get away, but his strong hands held me in place. After a while I gave up and looked out at the rain. I couldn't stop the tears no matter how hard I tried. Erik slowly slid his hands off my arms. The sensation made me shiver with longing. He gently lifted my chin, forcing me to look him in the eye. His eyes reflected my sorrow. He pulled me closer and I bathed in his warmth... We were so close, mere inches. I moved my gaze from his eyes to his lips. _So seductive. _I just wanted to kiss him. I tilted my head back and puckered my lips out, but only very slightly. Erik leaned down, closer and let his eyelids drop slowly. We stayed like this for what seemed like an eternity. _This is it! He's going to kiss me! _Then Erik swiftly opened his eyes and smiled gently. He leaned away and said, "I thought you would be happier about Christine's wedding." Something broke within me. I felt furious and embarrassed. _All he can think about is about her! Christine Daae! Even in a moment like this!_

I felt the tears fill my eyes once again. I broke away from him and whispered harshly, "Get out."

Erik's eyes filled with confusion, and he started towards me. "Meg," he said softly.

"I said **GET OUT**!" I screamed as I pointed to the door.

Erik hesitated, but left all the same.

As soon as he was out the door, I slammed it shut and pounded the wood. _I've cried so much recently._


End file.
